Story Of A Boy
by NearInsanity96
Summary: REPOST: I'm reposting/continuing this old story with some minor edits and improvements. Rated M for drug use and mature situations throughout. Matt-centric, my take on his life during the time after Mello left him.
1. Birth

**EDIT: Although this is a repost, I'm going to leave all of my previous comments to preserve authenticity ;)**

**Hey everyone, new story idea that I've been toying with for a while! It's basically the story of Matt's life, the way I imagined it to be, excluding when he meets up with Mello again after they get separated. I really love the idea of Matt's character, because he can be whoever you want him to be! I needed to stretch my good old multi-chapter muscles so this one isn't gonna be a oneshot (for once, holy shit)! **

**As per usual, I own nothing…please enjoy!**

From what I remember being told when I was young, my birth was wholly uneventful. I was a late baby, by a few weeks, but I didn't cause my mother any trouble in the actual birthing process. As for family, I was born into the illustrious Jeevas name; Miguel Jeevas was known to be the best French businessman of his time. His wife (my mother) Annette Jeevas was the perfect trophy wife. Young looking, feminine, submissive and of course, willing to shower my egocentric father with all the praise he needed. I was an only child, as to be expected of such a young family.

I very faintly remember the luxury of the finest fabrics, best food, and nicest nannies. However, even at that age, it was obvious that I was a different sort of child. I would constantly wander the estate, playing imaginary games amongst the trees or messing with any technology I could get my pudgy little hands on. Our family's servants would happily encourage me, teaching me about all sorts of things and being ecstatic when I understood. Well-meaning guests, seemingly amazed by me would always comment:

"Oh my, what a smart little boy! Annette, he's adorable, you're so lucky! So, will he be the next head of the company when he grows up?"

And other compliments of similar variety. Unfortunately for me, my father didn't quite like this. In fact, it seemed to annoy him to no end. In all honesty, I was a mistake. My mother got pregnant with me shortly after their marriage and begged my father to keep the baby. Reluctantly, my father agreed, only to have his decision come back to haunt him. As previously mentioned, my dear father was an extremely prideful man, who enjoyed the spotlight a little too much. So it was a slap in the face to have the attention stolen away from him by his own flesh and blood. I really did try to stay quiet and unnoticed by everyone for his sake, but even hiding in my room when we had guests wasn't enough. They'd always ask where I'd wandered off to this time.

At the age of five, ignoring my mother's half-hearted protests and sobs, my father and I sat down in the parlour to afternoon tea, croissants and "a very serious discussion." My father took the lead, simply telling me that I was neither needed, nor wanted and that I was going to be sent away. I chewed thoughtfully for a while, mulling this over. Finally I remember placidly asking where I was going to be sent, procuring a louder sob from my mother (who was no doubt listening outside) and a slightly bewildered look from my father. The man muttered the name of some boy's home and I nodded calmly.

Carefully climbing down from the large leather armchair, I padded over and hugged his knees, sweetly telling him that I was going to say goodbye to Maman and pack my toys. I was smart enough to realize my place in all this.

Later, clinging to a family portrait and my luggage, Mail Jeevas took a big step in starting his new life.


	2. My New Name

**So, I've officially decided, this is Matt-centric and I'm going to try and keep Mello mostly out of the plot except for in like, chapter four and somewhere near the end. The biggest part of the story is mostly gonna be the gap after Mello leaves Wammy's because I can literally do whatever the hell I want with that and I've wanted to do this for a while. I also really like this chapter, because of Matt's English. It's cute!**

**Oh, and actual dialogue!**

**Anyway, I don't own…like…anything, really **

**God, I'm such a teenager.**

When I was nine years old, something that I considered to be marginally interesting happened. I got pulled out of my maths class by the headmaster and was told there was someone waiting to speak with me. I casually headed to the adoption office where I'd seen a few lucky kids go before. There an aging man, who looked to be in his mid-sixties sat. He smiled softly and motioned for me to sit.

"Bonjour Mail, je m'appelle Monsieur Wammy."

Mr. Wammy had a heavy British accent that slightly affected his pronunciation of the French words. I sat slowly and spoke softly in slightly broken English (perhaps slightly was an understatement?)

"I may…speak in English. It can be good for me to…uhm…practice?"

I pouted at the Parisian lilt that marred my words and Mr. Wammy chuckled.

"Very well, Mail. Your English is good for your age but I've been told it's your favourite class, so I hardly feel that I should praise you. Anyway, down to the point; I'm here to make you an offer."

I thought it through for a moment, and then nodded, deciding to trust this man.

"English is…what you say…the most popular language. It is good to learn. Now…what is this offer?"

Wammy smiled at my ability to carry two different conversations (in a foreign language, nonetheless) and continued.

"None of the other boys have taken quite the interest that you have, though. My offer is simple: you will take a test to gauge your intelligence and if you score in the correct bracket, I'll adopt you and you can come live at my house for little geniuses."

I took this all in, deciding to respond to the easier topic first.

"I think they are stupid. Why will you not learn a big language? I refuse to play my games en Français, so that will help me." Then, "What does this word 'geniuses' mean?"

The older man smiled once again, seemingly amused with my responses.

"A genius is a very intelligent person; geniuses are multiple very intelligent people."

I nodded, quickly grasping the concept and wanting to be a part of it.

"Oh yes! I would very much like to do that!"

I was excited by the notion of going somewhere I'd actually be challenged. My enthusiasm would start to be replaced by indifference and even cynicism in later years but for now I was simply an under stimulated, nine year old genius with no outlets.

"Wonderful, I had a feeling you would say that. Now, about those tests…"

* * *

Later, after I'd passed Mr. Wammy's tests with flying colours, I'd packed up all my belongings, bid farewell to my teachers and I was now on a plane bound for London, conversing quietly with the man.

"Now Mail, it is sometimes difficult to ensure the safety of young people like you, so as an extra measure you'll be given two new names."

I nodded slowly, thinking it was a bit odd, but there was no harm in agreeing.

"So the name you will use in public will be Matteo Amoor and-"

I interrupted, giggling a little at my fake surname.

"Amour comme…er, I mean…same as the English word love?"

I dragged out the vowels in love, like any immature little boy and he laughed with me. I'm sure we looked more like grandfather and grandson at that moment, than two strangers who had only met once.

"Not quite, though it does sound rather like it, doesn't it? Anyway, the name you will use around the house will be Matt. You can even use Matt as a nickname for Matteo, but you are not to use your real name under any circumstances, understood?"

I nodded happily, not caring all too much about my name change and Wammy spoke again.

"I will be referring to you as Matteo for the remainder of this trip, alright?"

Rolling my R's without really meaning to, I repeated.

"Remainder? What is that?"

"It means the rest of the trip, Matteo."

Leaning back in my comfortable seat and playing with the hem of my blazer, I thought about my new names. Matteo…that seemed like a handsome name, from one of those daytime shows ladies watched. But Matt, _that_ was a cool name.


	3. Château de Les Petit Garçons

**The story's title first came to me in French ("L'histoire d'un garçon) and then I realized "Hey that sounds even better in English, goddammit!" So...yeah. Fun fact of the day for you? As for Matt's French heritage, Mail always just sounded French-ish to me and I thought it'd be fun to make him French lol. **

**I just used the word French 5 times.**

**French.**

**I'm a little weird today :P**

**Anyway, please enjoy and review if you wanna be nice to me!**

The orphanage I ended up getting shipped to was a high-class one, just outside of Paris. It operated more like a boarding school than anything else, and was almost as luxurious as my previous home life. I'd nicknamed it Château de Les Petit Garçons (although I'm sure it had a proper name, this is the only one I can recall.). There, I was to be schooled, learning English among other basics children my age learned.

The headmaster was a busy man, but he truly loved kids. If I remember correctly, his name was Monsieur Cabbet. Being a bit of a runt, and precocious as all hell, I was instantly favoured by him for my apparent cuteness. I believe he even gave me my first Gameboy as a welcoming gift.

I was a good student, quiet and agreeable but the work was much too easy for me. I had the best marks in the establishment, often scoring one hundred percent without batting an eyelash. In fact, despite French being my first language, English was my best class. It seems I instantly took a liking to the curious, backwards language and began reading English books before my peers even began reading in French. Many of my teachers were at a loss for what to do with me, most conceding to let me sit in the back of the classroom, messing about with my beloved video games. Sure, I'd beaten them about twice each, but by the time I was seven, I'd discovered glitching. By eight, I was taking apart and reassembling my consoles just for the fun of it, instead of doing any real schoolwork.

Secretly, I laughed to myself, because if I was as smart as everyone said I was, why didn't they think to bump me up to a higher level class? It was fine with me though, since I never had any inclination to do the worksheets I'd seen the other children dutifully filling out. I always thought of everyone in that place as kind, but hopelessly stupid.

As for my social life, it was almost entirely non-existent. Kids my age were intimdated by smarts, the older ones were jealous of my favoured status and I was ridiculously shy anyway. I preferred to remain antisocial and friendless, left to do my own thing. It was better for me, since I liked being alone and the other boys just didn't like the same things that I did. At this point, I was also starting to get quite the little ego.

Sometimes I'd stare longingly at the picture of my parents, but I was slowly starting to forget what it was like to belong in a family, or even a real home for that matter. I guess I tended to romanticize my past a bit too.


	4. Little Blonde Demons

**Okay ladies and gents, here's **_**The Mello Chapter.**_** I feel like it might be slightly brief…if you feel the same way, feel free to bitch at me via review (*wink wink nudge nudge*? Ima whore, I know) This story might be a bit of a challenge for me, since I feel like I understand Mello's character and motives the best. However, I'll be trying my hand at Near and some MattxNear because that is my guiltiest guilty pleasure :D! Enjoy my lovelies!**

**I still love you even if you don't review.**

**Sorta ;D**

There were many surprises waiting for me when I got to Wammy's. The first was the fact that a man named Roger – not Mr. Wammy – would be taking care of us. The second was that Mr. Wammy was Watari, caretaker to the great detective L (I would later learn I was third in the race to become him). In fact, the mysterious man was even raised here! The third, and most surprising surprise was that I'd be sharing a room…with a demon.

Roger had shown me to my room and had finished explaining things just as a blonde boy muttering angrily in a language I'd never heard before burst in.

"Roger!" he demanded in an accented voice, "What is _he _doing in _my_ room?!"

Obviously, he'd been here longer – his English, however accented, was still far better than my own. Calmly (he must've been used to this) Roger explained.

"Mello, this is Matt. He will be your new roommate. And _please_, no arguments this time. Matt is a very nice young man."

"That's half the problem…" The blonde child grumbled.

Trembling slightly behind Roger, I appraised this 'Mello' boy. With eyes like ice, a semi-permanent scowl and half an inch on me, he was obviously older, or at least more experienced. And he was most certainly not mellow. Unfortunately, Roger chose that moment to leave me completely defenseless against the terror I was to share a room with. I cautiously sat on my bed, worried about my long term plans for the future. After a tense silence that seemed like eons, he introduced himself properly.

"I'm Mello. We'll get along if you don't fuck with me, or touch my shit."

Ignoring his profanity, I nodded shyly, nervous enough to respond partially in French.

"J-je...m- I-I mean Matt. I'm Matt."

He laughed and smiled what I assumed was a rare smile.

"Roger already told me that, dipshit. Let's be friends, yeah? You do seem nice enough."

I nodded a little, blushing at my own stupidity. Later we would end up talking all night long, sparking a friendship that was sure to last a lifetime. He told me hesitantly about his family (though he didn't mention how he lost them; they were just gone). Mello turned out to be unusually open and I got the impression that he was a social kid who just didn't have a trustworthy confidante. I listened quietly as he told me…well, everything. His home country was Germany, his favorite food was anything chocolate, his favorite sport was soccer (which he called football for some unfathomable reason) and his favorite colour was black, but he sometimes liked red too. I quietly told Mello about myself too but it was significantly less. I didn't really know what to say at the time; I was honest though, so I suppose that counts.

"Mello?"

"Yeah?"

"This may be odd but…I have never been a friendship with any person before."

"You mean _been _in a friendship, with _anybody."_

"Er…yes, but-"

"Whatever, that's not my point. You just…tell friends your secrets and do fun stuff with them. That makes sense, right?"

I nodded slowly, happy with this new friend.

"Yes…it does. Thank you. I hope to do many fun stuff with you as my friend, Mello."

An exasperated sigh.

"Things, Matt. Fun _things!_"


	5. The Day He Broke My Gameboy

**Pretty short chapter, but bear with me, darlings. I'm trying to get past all the boring crap ASAP but you know how it is. This is the infamous 'oh my shit Mello left' chappie, but I tried my damndest to make it quick and painless. Lemme know whatcha think! **

**Love to all,**

**Mikey**

Fast forward a couple years. It was 2004 and I was fourteen years old. I now spoke French, English, German and Japanese fluently, and I'd created new records at Wammy's for computer-minded geniuses. I was also extremely pissed. Mello (best friend, partner in most crimes, etc.) who didn't quite understand the gamer's glee I got from my retro Gameboy Color and had broken it in a fit of rage earlier today. Anyway, the bastard had gone AWOL halfway through our criminal profiling class, with Near in tow. Near was an interesting story in his own right, but it was hardly my story to tell and I didn't care to pay attention to him at the moment.

To me, it was just a normal day. Since Mello and Near were ridiculously close in terms of intelligence and ranking, they often got pulled out of classes together, to do whatever super geniuses did in their spare time. I knew that I was definitely above average intelligence myself, but those two were light years ahead of me. I guess I just happened to be smarter than the other kids in the orphanage.

But anyway, back to the story.

I didn't end up seeing Mello all day, even at dinner. Then again, Mello was not a people person by any stretch of the typical imagination, so it wasn't uncommon for him to eat in our room, or just not eat at all. He ate so much chocolate that I wasn't really worried. Finally, at lights-out, I figured I'd see him at our dorm. However, when I got there, the blonde's side of the room was devoid of life. His bed was neat and made, and his belongings were nowhere to been seen. Starting to panic, I threw open the closet, looking for his clothes. There was nothing, as I'd feared. An icy dread pooled in my stomach as I noticed the later haphazardly taped to a brown box on my bed. Tearing it off, I frantically read it.

"_Matt,"_ it started in Mello's distinctive scribble. "_L is dead. I refuse to work with Near, so I'm leaving and going to stop Kira on my own. I'll fucking kill that son of a bitch with my bare hands if it comes down to it. I didn't want you to come with me because you'd just drag me down. It's easier this way._

_M"_

That stung. Actually, the emotional pain was worse than anything I'd ever felt before. For my best friend, the only person I'd ever really trusted thus far to basically call me useless hurt more than anyone could ever imagine. With a sinking feeling, I remembered the box. Tentatively opening it, I was presented with a brand new Gameboy with the word 'Sorry.' taped to it, almost as an afterthought.

I don't know what came first – my hysterical sobbing, or Roger rushing in the room- but I remember soon being wrapped in a blanket with a mug of hot chocolate nearby. I refused to drink it because of the memories it brought; it was a nice offer nonetheless. Still whimpering, I listened to Roger and some of the staff talking in fast, hushed tones. I managed to catch that they were moving me in with Near and that they were worried about my future interactions with the other students. I didn't blame them. My antisocial tendencies could be disconcerting even to the well-trained, and my self-confidence was fragile at best. This situation had me looking quite shattered indeed. What I didn't understand was the Near thing. Maybe they thought the two most reclusive students would strike up an unlikely friendship? Or maybe they just wanted to keep the higher ranking kids as close as possible. I had nothing against the fluff ball, but at the moment, I didn't really care about much. I just wrapped the woolen blanket tighter around my shoulders. It was only in hindsight that I noticed that I was quivering in shock.


	6. Alaska Boy And Our Adventures pt1

**This is the longest chapter yet XD. I was originally making a Matt and Near pairing in these next two chapters but I decided that it didn't quite suit the style of the story.**

**Tip of the day: Um…..do your math homework. If you have any….**

My first day with Near was an interesting one. I'd never really disliked him (apart from the soulless eyes and having to listen to Mello's constant bitching) and you could say we were somewhat friendly with each other. Mello had conveniently left on a Friday, leaving Fluffy and I the whole weekend to become acquainted.

Most of Saturday was spent quietly, with me unpacking and Near watching. It was unnerving, really. Anyway, things were going smashingly until about three in the afternoon when You-Know-Who decided the best way to start a civil conversation was like this:

"I don't really like you, I hope you know."

Well that was…illuminating. As if I didn't know he held something of a grudge against me, for spending so much time hanging out with someone who wanted him dead and therefore resorting to childish pranks and minor bodily harm.

"I do know…I was just hoping we could establish some sort of alliance for the time being. Mello's gone and…"

Near gave me one of his trademark blank looks. The type that was more arrogant than innocent and made you feel tiny and insignificant. I knew that he'd finished that trailing sentence in his head and had deemed it something not worth responding to.

"We are simply from different worlds, Matt. Do Heaven and Hell hold an alliance?"

I wasn't sure if he was the Hell or Heaven portion of that equation, but I hardly had a decent rebuttal. Maybe if I was smarter, like Mello or L I would but…now I had nothing, in all senses of the word. I had no friends, foes, or even a decent argument in my name. Throughout the orphanage, I was generally ignored by everyone, referred to as "That kid Mello was friends with". Answering his rhetorical question ( to annoy him, or plead for acceptance, I wasn't sure)I sighed

"Well…I'm not sure but Justice can only come from wrongdoings, right? If there was nothing bad, there would never be any good."

Surprisingly, Near cracked the tiniest smirk, as if I'd passed some sort of test.

"Perhaps your friendship deserves some sort of consideration, Matt. No matter how desperate you are, I think there would be some merits to associating with you. Friends close; enemies closer, as they say, correct?"

Ice cold, wasn't he? I had never met a more coldly focused person, with only one goal in mind. Mello was focused and ambitious in his own right, but he was always passionate and a downright open book. If you even briefly met him, there was no way that you could even come close to calling him cold. I chuckled softly, glancing at Near with a new glint in my eye.

"Fine, if that's how you want it to be. I never really considered you to be an enemy, though."

Is this how Mello's rivalry with the little white-haired boy started…? Probably not…Mello was the one who started confrontation in every area of life. There was not a day that went by that I don't remember the blonde spitfire being involved in some kind of fight. He was always the victor, of course, what with his physical and mental prowess. The only fight he hadn't won yet was this one. I had hope that he'd one day beat Near at his own game.

Near sighed suddenly, looking bored with this mini competition. No wonder; I didn't rise to the bait like my friend did. Maybe he was actually considering being my second friend.

"So…what would you suggest we do?"

I scratched my head, feeling a bit lost. I wasn't used to making decisions…I usually did whatever Mello said we should. I frowned, mid-thought. All this talk about Mello was starting to annoy me. I declared to myself that he would henceforth be referred to 'He Who Shall Not Be Named' and gathered my train of thought.

" Why don't we play Smash Bros or something like that?"

Near nodded – as per usual, his thoughts were unreadable and his expression was neutral- and stood accordingly, heading toward the game room. As he passed, I caught a snippet of the words he mumbled

"Sounds like an interesting endeavor.."

LINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAKY EAH

I frowned a while later, having lost all five games the two of us had played.

"How the hell did you beat me, Near?!"

Near calmly twirled white hair around his thin index finger, giving me a docile look

"It's a matter of being able to analyze things quickly and keep calm. If I got frustrated like you did, I wouldn't be able to rationalize my next move, correct? And in any case, I'm not exactly a beginner in these types of games."

I blanched a bit. Since when did Near play video games? Was he some secret gamer that I didn't know about? It was true that I had never seen the frail boy playing any of the games here, but then again, Near was known for being elusive and Mello sucked up most of my potential albino-spotting time. I think if I could get him to open up just a little, it would be mutually beneficial for us. Near, given the right tools (like I was some expert on being socially acceptable, or having friends.) could probably turn out to be a sort of half decent guy. I say half decent, only because he'd been trained so far already. The curriculum here was generally two-thirds brutal analysis a third of cold indifference and maybe a dash of a sense of justice in there. It was no big secret that L only chose the cases he wanted. It was pretty much a hobby for him that just happened to help others. I didn't idolize him like M-boy did, so that allowed me to see the flaws in his character. I think I somehow picked up on the indifference part, but I don't know if I had a proper handle on the analysis part yet. I never really thought I was that smart and I thought it was just a fluke that I managed to stay firmly in third place. I think You-Know-Who Squared just confirmed that for me.


	7. The Great Escape

**Heh…..it's been a while. Anyway, here's another chapter, where decisions will continue to be made. This will probably be the last chapter with Near in it as well…I'm trying to get Matt out of Wammy's as fast as it will allow so….yep. Btw, if anyone was looking for kickass French music, I suggest "Ça m'nerve "by Helmut Fritz or Elle me Dit by MIKA :)**

* * *

If looks could kill, I'd be dead three times over. The professor in my Advanced Physics class looked like he wanted to kill me then himself. I didn't care, really. The class was five minutes away from ending and hacking whatever game I happened to have on me proved far more interesting than listening to the didactic lecture the prof was giving.

Grabbing my bag and ditching that place as fast as I could when the bell rang, I headed back to the safe haven otherwise known as the dorm I shared with Near. Unsurprisingly, the mini-fluffball was there mechanically plunking puzzle pieces into their rightful places. I gave him a cursory greeting, to which he hardly responded and then I dropped the plan I'd been working on all day.

"Sheepy, I'm leaving tonight."

That caused him to at least look at me before replying.

"To find Mello, I assume."

A statement, not a question. Obviously, Near was too arrogant to ask for my confirmation.

"Uh…maybe that's the end goal, but mostly, I just wanna get out of this hellhole. I hate it here. We don't even get normal summer break here like other kids!"

"Has it ever occurred to you that we are not 'normal' kids? Besides, it's rather illogical to leave on the basis of not enough break time. You could take fewer classes."

I glared, but just a little. Over the past three months, he and I had become closer, to the point where we could actually have small conversations without mentioning You-Know-Who. Well….most of the time, anyway. I had a feeling he would bring the blonde boy up though, he probably didn't want to be entirely alone.

"Near, I'm not leaving because of stupid classes. I'm tired of all the expectations, the pressure…the fucking pitying looks I _still_ get, three months later. I'll leave and go live on my own, even if it's on the streets. B did and so did…..a-anyway, I can handle it."

"One shouldn't judge their own abilities on the abilities of others. Also, B left because he went insane after the death of A."

He had a point but…I didn't want to listen. I made my plan, and I was firmly sticking by it. I mainly needed my computer and my handheld consoles. It was a shame I had to give up things like my Gamecube and Playstation, but that was the way things were. I was certain that I'd get a job somehow, or a place to sleep, at the very least.

"Anyway…I'm just telling you this because I needed to talk to someone before I left. I don't really care what you think, and this bit of information is on a need-to-know basis. Besides, I heard the nurses have a bit of a bet on when I'm gonna take off. Heh, wouldn't want to disappoint."

Near stared at me blankly, and I assumed that was a look he thought might make me change my mind. Well…I hoped, perhaps. I mean, I felt a little bad for just up and leaving him all on his own, but he was smarter than me and-…just me. He could make it on his own, especially when he was surrounded by all the support and amenities Wammy's offered the best of the best. He'd be L and he'd be fine, and that was that.

"I…I care what you think!"

I blurted it out before I really had a chance to process it and Near just gave me something of a pitying glance before turning back to his puzzle. It was pure black today, instead of the usual white. Ominous indeed.

I hated pity.

* * *

Later that night, I shifted the weight of my heavy duffle bag on my shoulder, wincing slightly. Physical education was never my strong point, but it was something I'd have to get used to now. It was late, far too late for anyone to really be watching, but I gave a small peace sign before turning away from the home I'd known so long and dragging my feet into the darkness of the country night.

As I walked, I reviewed my plan. I had some money, mainly for meals, and if worst came to worst I could always pawn off some of my bulky electronics. That would make it easier to travel, but the sentimental value was almost worth the weight. I most certainly wouldn't be getting rid of the damned GameBoy until I could throw it at the bastard's face.

Mello….I sighed. This was the first time in a long while that I had felt free to think of him. What I thought, I'm not certain. I wasn't in love with him…how could I be? I was someone who had known indifference, sure. Maybe even the slightest glimmer of friendship and companionship but…not love. Never love. Perhaps it was better this way though. If I didn't love him, even as a brother, my thoughts wouldn't lead to wondering if he…if he maybe just…

Well. Enough of that.

I settled into a field, damp with the beginnings of dawn and sighed again, using my uncomfortable bag as a pillow. It would be warm soon, so I wouldn't have to worry about cold weather for a least another couple months. I hoped this field was public land…I wouldn't want some stupid famer sending me to the police, or even worse, back to Wammy's. If I went back there, that'd be the last blow to my pride, and if I met Mello again, I wouldn't be able to look him in the eye. Which only proved my cowardliness, probably.

Why was it always with him…


End file.
